CHAPTER 152: SHALL WE GO FOR SOME SHOPPING?

Citadel City.

The marble dining hall of Kyle Sterling’s mansion glowed in the morning light. Chandeliers hung above the long oak table, their glass crystals shimmering faintly. Silver cutlery clinked softly as Kyle sliced through his breakfast with meticulous calm.

The silence broke when the heavy doors opened. A man in a fitted black coat walked in, his polished shoes echoing across the floor. He bowed slightly, stopping at the end of the table.

Kyle didn’t look up immediately. He wiped his mouth with the napkin and finally asked, voice low but sharp.

"What is it?"

"Mr. Sterling," the man said, his tone respectful yet rigid, "Princess has confirmed and sent a report."

Kyle placed his fork down with a soft clink and leaned back in his chair. His eyes narrowed.

"A report about what?"

The man stepped closer, lowering his voice as though the walls themselves might be listening.

"It’s about Miles Sterling’s involvement in the attack you faced. After thorough examination... The princess confirmed there is very little chance—almost none—that he was connected. Sterling Enterprises’ movements in the past weeks were tracked. No suspicious dealings. No evidence of external coordination."

Kyle’s brows rose slightly. His hand tapped against the table, once, twice.

"Are you sure about this?"

The man’s expression didn’t change. "Mr. Sterling, are you questioning Princess’ words?"

The air in the room grew colder. Kyle let the silence hang for a few seconds before a smirk curved his lips.

"Of course not. If she is sure, then I won’t ask further. Her judgment is... absolute."

His smile vanished as quickly as it appeared.

"But then, who did it? If not him, then who was bold enough to make such a move against me?"

The man straightened. "We have identified the supplier of the cameras installed in your old mansion. They were purchased through back channels. We are tracing the buyers now. It will not be long before we have names."

Kyle’s eyes glinted dangerously, the knife in his hand pressing into the tablecloth.

"Good. Whoever they are, they should have known better than to touch Kyle Sterling. Find them, make them regret it."

"Yes, Mr. Sterling."

Kyle leaned back, the tension fading into a chuckle. He reached for his glass of wine, swirling it casually.

"And what about my dear cousin? Is he going to wake up?"

The man’s face remained neutral. "Nothing is certain yet. His condition is unstable. And even if he wakes... it will be too late. The Sterling family’s command will be in your hands."

Kyle sipped from his glass, savoring it.

"Mm. That’s how it should be."

He set the glass down and raised an eyebrow.

"And what about his troublesome daughter?"

"Silvey?" the man asked.

Kyle gave a thin smile. "Yes, her."

The man’s tone stayed steady. "She is busy tending to him. She hasn’t stepped into the office since the accident."

Kyle chuckled, a deep laugh echoing through the dining hall.

"Then she won’t ever step foot in the office again. Not while I’m here."

His laughter lingered, sharp and arrogant, as the man in black bowed his head slightly lower.

Star Harbor Art Gallery

Star Harbor Art Gallery gleamed in quiet elegance, the polished floor catching the light of tall chandeliers. Miles walked to Thea, who stood before the crimson-washed painting, her presence pulling attention even from the silent portraits on the wall.

"Miss Thea," Miles said with his usual calm, "do you fancy this painting?"

Thea’s lips curved into a soft smile. "I fancy creating."

Miles tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly. "Do you mean... this is yours?"

Thea chuckled, amused at his quick guess. "You’re right. I was here for the display."

Miles turned toward the canvas again. The monstrous night and its red moon loomed across the brush strokes—haunting, almost alive. His voice was steady but genuine. "You are quite talented, Miss Thea."

"It’s just my hobby," she replied lightly. "I painted this while staying at the beach house I rented in Star Harbor."

"It’s a good piece of art," Miles said. "It would sell for a fortune."

Thea shook her head gently. "I don’t sell my art. I only keep it for display."

"You’re missing opportunities, Miss Thea."

Her smile sharpened as she looked at him. "See who is saying this—the man who doesn’t care about the inheritance that is rightfully his."

Miles chuckled, neither denying nor explaining. "I believe in achieving things myself, Miss Thea. Just like you could achieve much more with your talent."

"I agree," Thea said after a pause, her tone playful. "But I have no plans for selling now. Perhaps when I grow old, I will."

"Sounds like a nice plan," Miles replied, his eyes steady on her. "So, what are we doing today?"

Thea glanced at him, a faint curiosity in her gaze. "I don’t know. Do you have anything fun here?"

Miles thought for a moment. "Do you like ice skating?"

Her interest sparked at once. "Is there a rink?"

"Yes," Miles nodded, a faint grin tugging at his lips. "There is one."

"Then I would love to skate," Thea answered with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Miles gestured toward the exit. "Let’s go then."

Thea brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "Your car, then."

"Okay," Miles said, already moving with his calm stride.

They stepped out of the art gallery into the soft gleam of the evening sun. Thea’s heels clicked lightly against the stone steps, her two men falling a pace behind. Miles walked ahead, calm and composed, opening the car door with a polite gesture.

"Thank you," Thea said, slipping inside gracefully.

Miles rounded to the other side, sliding into the driver’s seat. The car purred to life, its tinted windows cutting them off from the city’s noise as they started toward the southern districts.

For a while the ride was quiet, only the low hum of the engine filling the silence. Miles adjusted the rearview mirror and noticed something odd—no shadows trailing them, no dark sedans hovering behind.

His eyes narrowed slightly.

Thea noticed. "What is it?"

"Your men aren’t following us," Miles said evenly, though his gaze lingered on the empty road behind.

Thea’s lips curved faintly, as if she had been waiting for that observation. "I told them to stay behind. I don’t want them to disturb us. And besides..." her eyes met his in the reflection of the glass, "I am with the city’s most powerful man. Who would dare touch me?"

Miles’s grip on the wheel didn’t change, but the corners of his mouth lifted. "You flatter me, Miss Thea."

Her laugh was soft, almost melodic, but there was a sharp edge underneath.

—

Meanwhile, inside Sterling Security’s control room, the air was thick with focus. Dozens of screens glowed, live feeds and digital maps updating in real time.

A voice crackled over the comms. "Boss has left the art gallery with the target. No tails confirmed. I repeat—no one is tailing them."

The navigation map flashed on the central screen, Miles’s car marked by a red icon.

"Destination locked," another agent reported. "Car navigation suggests they’re heading south. Likely to the ice skating rink."

Monica leaned against the table, arms crossed, her eyes steady on the screen. "Keep me updated every second."

"Yes ma’am," the agent replied.

...

The rink was colder than the city outside, soft music echoing in the hollow space. Miles laced his skates calmly while Thea tied hers with practiced ease.

Kai led them across the polished ice at a private mini rink, his voice carrying lightly. "Here you go, boss. I’ll leave you two here. Call me if you need anything."

Miles gave him a nod. "Thank you, Mr. Kai."

Kai bowed before disappearing down the corridor, leaving only the faint sound of blades scratching against ice.

Thea glanced around. "Boss?, I didn’t know you own this place as well."

Miles’s lips curved faintly. "I just recently bought it."

Her brows lifted, a little impressed, before she stepped onto the rink. Miles followed, and soon the two were gliding side by side.

Thea’s movements were sharp, controlled, not like a beginner’s wobble. She twirled once, letting her coat flare around her, her breath visible in the chill.

Miles skated closer, steady, a figure of calm balance. "You’re quite skilled."

Thea laughed lightly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Norway is cold, Mr. Sterling. Ice like this was part of childhood. Skating is second nature."

Miles gave a knowing smile, though his sharp eyes caught something—a flicker in her expression, the shadow that slipped across her face before she covered it with another flawless smile. He didn’t press, simply glided past her and spun effortlessly, halting in front of her with precision.

She clapped softly. "You’re not bad yourself."

"I manage," Miles replied.

After some minutes of playful skating, and one brief moment where Thea almost stumbled only for Miles to catch her wrist, they moved off the ice and dropped into the cushioned chairs at the corner. Their breaths rose in little clouds, cheeks flushed from the cold and exertion.

"That was fun," Thea admitted, leaning back.

Miles leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "It was. And you are more skilled than I expected."

Thea smiled faintly. "You flatter me."

Miles’s tone shifted, still casual but a touch sharper. "May I ask you something, Miss Thea?"

Her smile didn’t falter. "Of course."

"Why didn’t you bid for the diamond at the auction?"

There was silence, only the faint hum of the rink’s cooling system. Thea tilted her head slightly, her eyes glimmering as if she’d been waiting for that question all along.

"To be honest," she said softly, "I wanted to. That was the very reason I came here."

Miles’s gaze stayed fixed on her. "But you didn’t. Not once. You bid for everything else, but never the diamond."

Thea’s lips curved, evasive, a practiced smile that revealed nothing. "I just changed my mind." She rose gracefully, brushing her coat. "Shall we go for some shopping?"

Miles leaned back, reading her avoidance but pressing no further. "Alright."

As they walked out, Thea cast him a mischievous glance. "Tell me, do you own a shopping mall as well?"

Miles chuckled. "No, I don’t. But I can take you to one."

She laughed softly. "For a moment I thought we would just be visiting your properties all day."

Miles smiled faintly. He said nothing, hiding the truth. The Star Central Mall was his too—but under Reaper Entertainment, not Sterling Enterprises. Some truths didn’t need to be revealed.